Just as they got ready to leave, Simon’s call came. He was back in his room and was alright. He had had a very bad evening and needed some sleep. He asked if he could come to Bellich’s room at 1 p.m. Bellich, sensing that this was not the best time to talk, told him not to be late.
By the time Simon was halfway through his story it was 2 p.m. and Doyle knew that it was time to get out of the Philippines.
Simon had dined with Chan and some close associates at the same restaurant as the night before. Chan told Simon to pick up the bill because Chan had paid the previous night. Chan then took all of them to a nigh club known as the Moulin Rouge where they were given a VIP Room, Simon again was expected to pick up the bill. There they were joined by two Philippinos and two Taiwanese. It was not convenient for Simon to call. The four new arrivals tried for hours to get Simon, who doesn’t drink, to partake.
Finally, one of the Taiwanese pulled a 45-caliber handgun and pointed it at Simon’s head for no apparent reason. Simon felt he was being tested because he had done nothing to offend anyone. They didn’t let him leave until 8 a.m.
“That’s it. We are out of here,” Doyle declared. There would be no more meetings of any kind in this place. The sooner they were wheels up on the plane, the better. Bellich stayed with Simon while Doyle went to brief Mosquera.
Mosquera echoed Doyle’s view. The first plane that they could find back to Hong Kong was the one they would be on. The relief and reassurance Doyle enjoyed as the plane lifted off the runway en route to Hong Kong surprised even him. He felt as though they were leaving an untamed criminal wasteland for a place where the cops were honest and one knew who the good guys and the bad guy were
Doyle told Mosquera that they would have Simon call Woo one more time when they got to Hong Kong. Barring any unforeseen developments they would make reservations back to the states as soon as the call was made. The trip had been a great success from the standpoint of what they had hoped to accomplish. They had introduced the undercover to Woo. They had placed an order for $350,000 worth of the world’s purest heroin. They had gotten tremendously incriminating statements from Woo about his two suppliers, Wong and Teo, which had been filmed and recorded by the RHKP. They had met with the notorious Ng, Man Sum and opened the door for possible future contact. And, they had survived Manila. It was time to go home and kiss the kids and the wife.
The call to Woo produced no surprises. He would call Simon when the heroin was ready. Reservations were made on the next available flight to the U.S. which was two days hence. Following dinner, Mosquera suggested that they retire to an expatriate bar just around the corner from the hotel named Joe Banana’s. Mosquera, Bellich, Carpanini and Doyle were standing near the entrance of the crowded bar when Doyle saw a familiar face coming into the bar. It was one of the DEA agents that they had seen at the local DEA office. Doyle said hello.
“Fuck You,” was the response.
“Excuse me,” Doyle said as the DEA agent continued through the crowd and took up a position at the end of the bar.
“Did you hear that?” he asked Mosquera who was only inches away. “I’ll give him, ‘fuck you.’” Doyle snapped as he wheeled and headed toward this newly discovered asshole.
“What is your fucking problem?” was Doyle’s second attempt to start conversation. Just then Mosquera, who was a couple of steps behind, caught up and grabbed Doyle and pulled him away from the escalating confrontation. “Geoff, take it easy. I heard what the guy said. He’s probably drunk and you don’t want to kick a drunk’s ass, now, do you?” Mosquera said. “I’ll talk to him. If he says it to me then I’ll kick his ass. I AM the supervisor.”
